274 DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SALMON FISHING. 



" His wig was weel pouther'd, an' maist guid as new ; 

 His waistcoat was red, bis coat it was blue ; 

 A ring on bis finger, bis sword an' cock'd bat, 

 An' wba could refuse tbe laird wi' a' tbat ? 



" He mounted bis mare, an' rode cannilie, 

 An' rapp'd at tbe yett o' Claver's Ha' Lee ; 

 ' Gae tell tell Mrs. Jean to come speedily ben, 

 Sbe's wanted to speak to tbe Laird o' Cockpen. 



" Mrs. Jean sbe was makin' tbe elder flower wine ; 

 ' An' wbat brings tbe laird at sic a bke time ? ' 

 Sbe tbrew aff ber apron, tbrew on her silk goun, 

 Her mutch wi' red ribbons, an' cam' awa' doun. 



li An' when she cam' doun, he bowed fu' low, 

 An' what was his errand he sune let her know ; 

 Amazed was the laird when the leddie said ' Na' ! ' 

 An' wi' a laigh curtsy she turned awa'. 



" Dmnfoon der'd was he, nae sigh did be gie, 

 He mounted his mare, an' rode cannilie ; 

 An' said to bimsel', as he gaed through the glen, 

 ' Sbe was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen ! ' " 



It had been my intention to give an account of the 

 burning of the water from Melrose Bridge to the Cauld 

 Pool, and so on to Cow's Hole, but the description, if 

 faithful, would be so similar to the one already given, 

 that it would be lamentably tiresome, and I have been 

 ultra tedious already. Besides, it must be considered 

 that I have been out of my bed most part of the night ; 

 that I am to the full as sleepy as any of my readers can 

 possibly be ; and, moreover, that my back is half-frozen, 

 whilst my front is scorched with the firebrands. 



Farewell, then, dear brothers of the angle ; and when 

 you go forth to take your pleasure, either in the moun- 



